Mine
by bibliosaurus-rex
Summary: Angst. Pining. Protective Fae males. Set towards the end of Queen Of Shadows. Aelin and Rowan are cuddling in a chair one evening, and Chaol feels the full weight of having lost Celaena. Rowan reads his attention as affection for Aelin and becomes more possessive. Aedion seems amused by the whole thing. Aelin is too busy kissing Rowan. Rowaelin. Chaolaena.


I see him kiss her, and it makes me feel sick.

It makes me sick because they are so happy together, and because part of me still loves her.

I still love the curve of her nose, and the way her brow arches. I still love her strong, swift movements. I still love her hips and her hair and her hands. I love the way her eyes go soft when she reads. I love the way the gold in her eyes catches the light. I love her stubbornness and the way she fake-pouts to steal kisses.

I just wish it was me she wanted to steal kisses from.

I miss the way my name sounds in her voice. Chaol _._ These days, she says it with more disgust.

I don't love the new bits of her. The ways she is Aelin and not Celaena. The dark tattoo snaking down her back. The royal way she lifts her chin. The anger burning in her. The two Fae that follow her everywhere. The secrets. The shadows. The way she looks at me as if I was nothing. The fact its Rowan's hand, not mine, that is entwined with hers.

They are so perfect, and I hate it.

I hate him. I hate his taciturn nature, and the haughty way he stands. I hate his muscles, and his tattoos. I hate the fact she chose him and not me.

They're sitting together, legs tangled in a pile of limbs and kisses. She is smiling at him, like he is the world. Has he noticed the tiny gold flecks in the turquoise of her eyes? He must have. She looks so small compared to him, her human form curled into his Fae one.

In the firelight, she almost looks like Celaena.

But she is not Celaena, she is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. This human body hides the monster underneath. I cannot love that part of her. I cannot love the fire that will eat up my kingdom. Dorian is ice, and she will go on burning until he is melted away. The king is dead. Is that not enough? She talks of witches and demons and power that a year ago, she could not have. A year ago she would have recoiled at Rowan's touch. A year ago, she was mine.

Aedion pretends not to notice her, but every now and again he gives a pointed sniff. Fae are so predatorial, it's disgusting. I know what scent means to them. Rowan's probably marked her as his with his smell. I try not to think about it.

But for all their animal ways, she is smiling. She is kissing him and tracing his cheekbones and blushing at the things he whispers. She is his Aelin and it drives me mad.

No, there is none of my Celaena left here. There is just a queen with her face.

I will never be able to protect her like I used to, because as long as she can become Fae she will always be faster and stronger and better. I will never be able to protect her like I used to, because she is calmer now and more of a queen than any of Arobynn's finery and spoiling could have made her.

Aelin. Fae. Queen. These are things I cannot grasp. I miss Celaena. Human. Assassin.

I try not to love her anymore.

-o0o-

I see him stare at her, and it makes me feel sick.

How can he _look_ at her in that way? You can see his thoughts on his face. He is thinking about her skin on his. About the nights they shared. About all the times he was there for her and I was not.

I kiss her again. She is _mine_ now. He sacrificed his darling _Celaena_ when he sent her overseas. Now she is stronger. Now she is Aelin. Now she is _mine_. More than anything, I am hers. Her servant. Her teacher. Her Rowan.

Beneath the musk of the room, I can smell her skin. Did he notice the way she always smells of fire? He cannot have. Perhaps he noticed the burning gold in her eyes, or the roaring anger in her heart; but he is not Fae. He cannot love her the same way.

Even in her human form she is so _beautiful_. She is delicate this way, a vulnerable queen that must be protected, not the bold warrior she can be. I trace the line of her neck with my fingers. My skin screams where it touches hers.

They joke about heat and cold. Fire and air. About two opposites.

It does not feel cliché the way I am burning.

I love every bit of her. The dark tattoo snaking down her back. The curve of her nose, and the way her brow arches. The royal way she lifts her chin. I love her strong, swift movements. The anger searing in her. I love the way her eyes go soft when she reads. I love the way the gold in her eyes catches the light. I love her stubbornness and the way she fake-pouts to steal kisses. I love her hips and her hair and her hands entwined with mine.

 _Mine._ My golden queen.

Her scent is filling the room with every time I ghost her bum or nibble her ear when I whisper. Aedion can smell it, and keeps sniffing pointedly. I'd stop, but I love the way Chaol pales with every kiss. I love the way she warms with every kiss.

She is not his Celaena, she is _Aelin_. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. This human body hides the monster underneath. The queen underneath. He can stumble with her new name all he wants, there is something undeniable about her now. Something has changed her. He sacrificed his darling _Celaena_ when he sent her overseas. Now it is her skin on _mine_. _We_ share the nights. There were so many times _I_ was there for her and _he_ was not.

 _He was the one who killed Nehemiah._

I cannot allow him to stay in her heart, when _he_ was the one who broke her. I blame him for the scar on his cheek. I blame him for the way she hated herself. I blame him for every tear she cried over Nehemiah's passing. I am so thankful I was there, to teach her how to mourn. I know about Sam now, and her parents. She had already lost so _much_ , and he tore still more from her.

Now it is Emrys that calls her Elentiya. Now it is me that calls her Aelin. There is nobody to call her Celaena.

She kisses me again, and I am burning.


End file.
